Myrtle's Bathroom
by Errol's Feather
Summary: Hermione is unhappy with her current life situation, fallen out of love with her husband and arguing with her teenage children. It does not help that she has fallen in love with someone else. As she does not know what to do she ends up in Myrle's bathroom... Luckily someone comes to her aid. Warning: Sensitive Material.


_**Disclaimer: **_I don't own Harry Potter and I don't make any money from it._ **  
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_**Warning: **_The content of this story is sensitive as it is on the verge of suicide._ **  
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_**Myrtle's bathroom **_

Hermione had skipped work and arrived at the school early that morning, walking the hallways she had walked so many times before. Before anyone were up, the place had seemed so abandon. So quiet that it gave her some solitude. The walls of the castles seemed to hide her away, they could however not stop the chaos of thoughts running through her head. She slowly walked to the bathroom at the second floor where she sat down on the floor.

In her hand was a blade, a shiny, sharp blade. She pulled pushed down her pants knowing no one would ever look for her here.

She just couldn't go on, living with a man she no longer love, fighting with her two teenagers, hiding who she truly loved. Hermione knew in her heart she could never have her, that she could never tell her how she felt. She knew she should leave Ron, but she didn't have the strength to do, knowing how much he loved her. He was a good husband and father and he had never treated her wrongly. It was just over the last couple of years she had changed, she loved him as a friend, but that was also all, she couldn't make love to him anymore, it made her stomach turn just to think of it. It just felt so wrong.

1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, the blade ripped over her thigh, not deep yet, still deep enough to leave traces of blood. Tears starting to fall from her mocha eyes.

7,8,9,10,11, the blade went deeper now. Her hand was shivering, thinking about how they once made polyjuice potion in here, and finding the entrance to the chamber of secrets. The good old times, it was like she was always destined to be with Ronald. Still if she could have gone back in time she might have chosen differently.

She closed her eyes, letting the blade slide over herself again, as she pictured her. The woman she truly loved, maybe she always had. She wasn't really sure, she had always respected her, though, and that much she knew.

Having her eyes closed she didn't notice that her blood was slowly starting to run from her thigh and onto the floor. She whimpered by the pain the blade caused, loosing count over her many cuts; more tears were joining the first

Why did she have to be such a coward, why couldn't she just leave him and tell her how she felt? Not caring about what people might think. Not caring if their children looked at her, simply not caring as long as she could be with the one she loved.

More cut, even deeper. Being with the one she loved, what an absurd thought, because even if Hermione loved her, the mighty Minerva McGonagall, the elderly witch could hardly love someone like her.

Who was she trying to fool, who but Ronald Weasley could really love her. Her sobs were coming more ragged now; she was curling up on the floor, her blade slipping out of her weak hand. She wanted to give up; she wanted to fall into blackness, only it seemed to take forever.

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Minerva McGonagall, headmistress of Hogwarts, usually never went into the girls' room on the second floor. She did still remember when she went to school and Myrtle had died there, but after that it had been more or less abandoned. If you didn't count Myrtle that was.

Now she however had a really troublesome day, and where else to hide than just that bathroom. After all no one ever went there. Or so she thought, until she saw Hermione on the floor. The middle-aged witch was lying there completely still, her black jeans pulled down, and blood running from her thigh, and a blade was above her right hand.

The blood froze to ice in the elderly veins, she removed the blade as she sad down next to her. The conjured a wet cloth to put on the wound. She in a steady voice spoke, "Miss Granger."

"You haven't called me that in ages," Hermione's voice weakly sounded. She didn't have the power to open her eyes and look at her old head of house.

"Well if you prefer Mrs. Weasley, I can use that," said Minerva, quirking a brown.

"Granger is fine," said Hermione, mustering a weak smile.

Minerva nodded saying, "Care to tell me why you are here, of all places, like this?"

"I…Ron…It won't work, I love someone else," Hermione whispered, turning away.

"I see, well we better get you to the hospital wing," said Minerva, carefully lifting her up and apparating there without asking the younger witch more questions, after all she didn't care to have two ghosts in that bathroom.

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When Hermione again opened her eyes she was at in the hospital wing, Minerva was sitting next to her, her eyes seemed closed. She looked around, figuring Minerva hadn't alerted Ron or the children as neither was there, and Hermione couldn't help but wonder why not.

"Professor," her voice sounded dry.

Minerva opened her eyes at once, saying, "Miss Granger, how are you feeling?"

"Weak," she said honestly, as that was exactly what she felt, weak.

"That is understandable," Minerva nodded. She sighed deeply, before she continued, "Hermione, you are the last person I thought I would find like this, it was only mere luck I was even there, if I hadn't…"

"I…I… It all became too much," Hermione couldn't find the words she was looking for, looking upon the elderly witch sitting by her bedside.

"I gotten that, but there must have been someone you could have talked to, I thought you and Ginny were close, or Luna?" she questioned.

"It didn't feel right about talking to Ginny about the fact that I was no longer happy with her brother. I could have talked to Luna, but I'm not sure if she would have understood, I'm not sure if anyone can," the younger witch looked down. She could feel her tears were threatening to appear.

"Hermione, honesty is always best. Even if Ronald get upset finding you love someone else, isn't it better to be honest than living on a lie?" Minerva asked. Her tone seems somewhat softer than usual.

"You are right, only we been together for so long, I hate the thought of hurting him like that, besides what is the point, I'm sure that… That this person would never want someone like me," she said.

"None sense, who wouldn't want you?" Minerva said, daring to place her hand on top of Hermione's. It was the right thing to do, she felt.

Hermione took a deep sigh, knowing she would have to tell her right now or be quiet about it forever. She looked directly into Minerva's teal green eyes as she said, "You, the person I wish to be with is you."

Minerva didn't retract her hand, for some reason this didn't come as a shock to her. Then again she had students fall for her before, yet she had never acted upon it, for many reasons. Instead she said, "And you really felt that dying in what I consider to be my home was the best way to go about it. Why didn't you just come to me?"

"I wasn't sure on how to approach you with the matter or how you would react," said Hermione, not being able to hold her tears back anymore.

"One girl died in that bathroom during my time, Miss Granger, I would hate for you to be another one. That would truly pain me," said Minerva, meaning every word.

"I really matter that much to you?" Hermione dared to ask.

"You do, my young cub," Minerva answered.

Hermione didn't speak, she didn't know what to say, and for a short second she thought she could see a tear running down McGonagall's cheek. Could that be?

Minerva sighed heavily saying, "Please, never scare me like that again, my heart couldn't take it."

"I promise I won't," Hermione said, smiling through her tears.

"Good," said Minerva, for a short second a smile graced her tin lips.

"Why didn't you alert my family?" Hermione asked.

"I have, even if I didn't want you to see you like that, I take it they haven't gotten here yet," Minerva said. Seeing their mother in the state she was when she had brought her in, bleeding, pale, barely alive was in Minerva's eyes not the best for Hugo or Rose. Even with her thigh now cleaned and bandaged, she was still looking pale, although her color were slowly returning.

"For once I'm glad you are the only one here, that you found me and that you stayed," said Hermione.

"As am I," Minerva said, helping Hermione that tried to sit up, ending in a weird embrace. Minerva could have let go, still she didn't, and she just held the younger Gryffindor as she cried.

"Minerva, I…" she whispered into her ear.

"Shhhh, I'm here, and I'm not going anywhere," said Minerva, holding her close. She meant every word, knowing she would not leave her side again. Perhaps of fear of losing the younger witch, or simply because she had stronger feelings for her than she cared to admit at this point.

From the door Ronald, Rose, and Hugo was watching. Ron looked shocked, as did Hugo, Rose however was smiling. None of them dared to walk further in, perhaps afraid to ruin a perfect moment of happiness.

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Feedback always welcome and very much appreciated :o)


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